


Etto's Exploits

by highlycoveted



Category: Andromeda Six (Visual Novel)
Genre: Dates, Etto is a big try hard, Multi, Poison, and ties, oh and Liran in a dress, the crack ship to end all crack ships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:35:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25859809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highlycoveted/pseuds/highlycoveted
Summary: Etto has finally been able to convince Liran to go on a date with him, not before eating a full pack of cigarettes to Liran's horror and amusement. It really seems like this man would do anything for someone he can't have.(Liran belongs to @Adjustiert)
Kudos: 1





	Etto's Exploits

**Author's Note:**

> Etto has finally been able to convince Liran to go on a date with him, not before eating a full pack of cigarettes to Liran's horror and amusement. It really seems like this man would do anything for someone he can't have.
> 
> (Liran belongs to @Adjustiert)

Saying it was easy getting Liran to agree to a date would be a hilarious lie.

“Piece of cake, I tell you”

But, of course, Etto undeniably **is** a liar.

“More like a box of cigarettes and four trips to the infirmary!” Ryona snatches the pack poking out of Etto’s pocket, turning away before he can protest.

“Oh come on Ry-“

the medic takes a deep breath in, flicking around to face him again,

“No no, you asked for my help and I’m making sure my aid has been put to use, thoroughly” she looks at him from over her desk, slamming the drawer shut. What Etto would do to find the key to it… yet all his confiscated paraphernalia lay out of harms reach. For now.

“What are you doing here, Etto?” Ryona stares at the man, his lean body preening against the tight, black button-up he had donned for the occasion.

He looks dashing, yet, he is still uncharacteristically nervous.

Sensing her questioning eyes on him Etto perks up,

“Well I _know_ I look good. I just like checking up on you” he adds his trademark grin for effect, leaning against the doorframe and barring Ryona’s only exit from the infirmary.

She is well versed in his ways now and knows the king of arrogance would never ask for help. Yet, here he is, subliminally telling her exactly how he feels.

“You’re scared” she states, earning a low chuckle from the man, Ryona folds her arms at his reaction.

“You were dumb enough to eat all your cigarettes in the hopes of going on a date with her.” She recounts the weeks earlier events in a slow, deliberate tone and she swears she sees the corners of Etto’s mouth lift up at her name.

“Liran was merely testing you-“

“Testing me?” Etto’s eyebrows turn sharply downward, his stupidly handsome face etched with utter confusion.

Now it’s Ryona’s turn to laugh.

“Yes, Etto, of course she was, we could all see it.” At this point Etto has dropped his smirk, and arm from the doorframe, Ryona notes. His posture less snobbish than usual and his attempt to cover it up involves an aggressive hand sweeping through his bone-white hair.

Ryona bites back a smile at the sight and tilts her head sympathetically.

“She’s a woman of her word, though” she creeps toward him, “and you seem to be a man with the inability to do his own tie” she adds, looking between the now defeated Etto and the thin fabric hanging about his neck.He rolls his eyes, caught red-handed in his attempt to ask for help. An extremely uncommon venture for Etto.

“Well are you gonna do it up or not?” he cranes his neck down, forcefully letting the fabric flap into Ryona’s face and earning him a frustrated mutter from the Tilaari, bringing that trademarked Etto smile back.

“I’d appreciate a please, or perhaps I’ll allow Liran to continue growing her plants in here-”

“f-fine… Please” although quiet, Ryona is satisfied and yanks on the fabric a little harder than needed just to get her point firmly across.

_Later that day_

The hallway fills with her scent, sandalwood and moonflower.

Etto adjusts his jacket and smooths his hair over once more, preparing to step out into the hallway.

But he pauses, he knows better.

He stops himself quickly, sniffing the air a second time. Nope, no lethal smells, as far as he can tell. Unless Liran had invested in a new botanic weapon he cannot recognize. Etto had made that mistake too many times before and he was not about to march out of his room to be greeted with stinging or itching. _Again_.

Etto stops himself once more, resisting the intoxicating smell of Liran is a difficult task indeed, but the view of his reflection in the mirror sates the pull slightly.

Not a hair out of place, he observes. Just might be enough for the Snow Kitten. _Might._

He practices his signature grin, pale pink lips pulling back to reveal perfect white teeth and perhaps slightly daunting canines.

A wolf and a cat, he thinks, how perfect.

“Why am I hardly surprised with your behaviour anymore?” Liran’s voice is smooth like honey in Etto’s ears. His knuckles go white as he grips the basin, _damn_ does he want to turn around and drink her in.

“Liran,” he greets her, staring at her through the mirror. Grey eyes meeting with piercing amber ones.

His restraint is impressive, for a wolf.

Liran’s white and gold embellished number could not oppose Etto’s all-black suit more but in his eyes it’s perfect. She’s per-

“I would say I’m charmed but-“

“you’re blown away” Etto cheekily finishes. Turning around to face her, his heart catching at the view. Liran, on the other hand, is unflinching as she looks up at him.

“I was going to say I’m not a liar.” she then decides to look over him, her braid cascading down her snow-white shoulder, her expression practically screaming ‘ _please can we get this over with_.’

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting” Etto smoothly ignores her remark pushing himself off of the sink and striding toward the Tilaari, she shuffles slightly at the proximity.

“The more you talk the more I have time to think about how much I want to take this thing off and leave you here” she kicks her floor length dress out from under her in attempt to begin walking down the hallway. Etto, slightly endeared by the sight, decides to push his luck.

“I’m thrilled you adhered to my formal dress code” he has that smile plastered on his face.

_That_ smile. And it doesn’t help that his grey eyes are raking over her in a way that makes her skin crawl.

Liran has to clench her jaw as she watches that insufferable smirk spread across his face.

“I’m going to hold this against you” she warns, her steps are silent as she pushes herself, along with her inhibiting dress, down the hallway. Etto is stuck in trance for a second too long, not realising Liran has departed from the spot he is staring dumbly at.

“Hold _what_ exactly against me?” Liran hears his voice echo slyly from behind her as she continues down the hallway, dreading the feeling of having to walk beside him as he joins her.

“How rude of me,” he pipes up, slightly out of breath “I neglected to mention how wonderful you look toni-” she reels in hearing the smirk in his voice, not even having to look to know it’s there.

“Don’t” she commands, focused on the end of the hallway, actively avoiding the looming shadow beside her.

“And I’m sure you appreciate how I cleaned up too.” Etto almost purrs into her ear and Liran tenses, dreams of her fist colliding with his jaw floating wistfully into her brain

But instead she just chooses to pick up her pace.

“I’d rather not be waiting any longer to see what you’ve prepared” her eyes finally turn up to meet his as she says so. Etto knows her initiation of eye contact is to only to solidify her threat but-

“Oh, I have many things prepared for you” still, his eyebrow quirks, his flirting on autopilot as Liran lets out an unintelligible string of what...? Spanish? Etto will be sure to search it up on his holopad later.

“Allow me” Etto, a little too excitably, presses the button to open the doors to the canteen. Liran draws in a breath and so does Etto; his more to catch her scent, hers to summon a shred of patience that she’ll most definitely need tonight.

The usual metal benches and matching table have been replaced with wood and fabric. Where had Etto even managed to get the rustic furniture from, Liran didn’t know or care, her focus was on the flowers. Etto had managed to decorate the entire room with them, the light peach, yellow and white trumpets catch the glow of the candlelight in an impressive way. But that is just the sheer beauty of the flora, which is hardly Etto’s doing. Liran knew what he was trying and it wasn’t working.

“Brugmansia.” Liran observes as she nonchalantly sits herself on one of the two adorned wooden chairs. She wonders absentmindedly if Etto realizes how poisonous the flower and its leaves are. Perhaps he’s finally learnt how to handle them properly.

“Angel’s trumpets” Etto adds, slightly catching Liran off guard as he attempts to push her chair in for her.

“It wasn’t a question.” She corrects, kicking her dress out of the way and grabbing the underside of her chair to position it herself. Etto backs off with hands raised, along with his dark brows, joining her silently in the other peculiar chair.

“At least it isn’t the devil’s trumpet, again” He seems to relish in Liran’s adamant shutdowns, shooting her a knowing grin as she glowers at him. She had to use her last Datura just to teach Etto a lesson for attempting to ask her on a date after the 7th ‘no’. Etto has never touched a salad again.

“The menu tonight is stew.” Etto obnoxiously flares out his serviette, the wind produced by it causing the candle to flicker, perhaps it’s as unhappy as Liran is to be here.

“What exactly is in it, may I ask?” The dish doesn’t look disgusting per se, just unappetizing. Liran picks up her fork and inspects the ingredients.

“Organic, freshly harvested apples of the earth along with free-range, hand fed poultry pieces” Etto’s voice is so confident, he must’ve rehearsed that line, anticipating Liran’s doubts.

“So, potatoes and chicken.” Liran summarises, plainly, watching as Etto takes a mouthful and melodramatically displays his feigned enjoyment.

“I think the way I put it sounds better.” He manages to get out between chewing and swallowing the food, it seems bland and dry, unsurprising since the man has probably never cooked a meal in his entire life. And god forbid he’d ask Reznor for help.

Maybe Damon would _take care_ of Etto for Liran if she asked… A thought for the future, indeed.

“Only the finest ingredients for the Snow Queen.” He concludes, interrupting Liran’s thoughts of soliciting perhaps the only person Etto does not flirt with

“I hope you know this is not going near my mouth.” Liran pushes the well-used metal bowl away from her, it doesn’t seem Etto payed attention to every detail when he made the place up for their ‘date.’

“That’s fair.” Etto says, surprisingly not resorting to making a quip at her,

“There are other things that can go near your mouth though-“ ah, there it is. She spoke too soon. Grabbing the closest piece of cutlery to her she embeds it into the table as it lets out a pathetic squeak.

“Enough.” She threatens through clenched teeth, not surprised when Etto’s expression hardly changes, a challenging and intrigued smile still stuck to his face. She hasn’t even realised she’s standing up till she notices this is the first time she’s looked _down_ on Etto.

“Calm down, Liran” he coos, her eyes still hard on him as he joins her in standing, raising his hands onto her shoulders. She instinctively flinches away, letting go of the knife that has now become one with the table thanks to Etto’s appalling comment.

“How could this be worse than I anticipated.” She mutters, mostly to herself, surveying the dimly lit room and it’s juxtaposing sweet, floral scent.

“Maybe you need a drink!” Etto suggests enthusiastically and Liran throws him an unimpressed look waiting for him to notice his mistake.

“It must be right here-“ he fumbles in his pockets and jacket, coming up empty. Eyes resembling a sad mutt when he looks back at Liran.

“Ry must’ve taken it.” He concludes, his voice an octave lower as Liran lets out an exasperated breath,

“I also do not drink, I thought I made that cl-“ she stops herself, a genius thought springing to her mind, suddenly. Etto catches her shift in mood

“Uh, should I be scared?” he inches away slightly, eyes searching hers. However, Liran isn’t looking back but instead folds her hands in front of her as she straightens her posture.

“I have a proposition to make.” She says, her voice a hypnotizing tone, one that she knows will clear Etto’s inhibitions instantly. And it does.

“I’m listening.” He says in a deep rasp as he places both his hands on the table, looking up at Liran through thick lashes.

“I may have something that you want.” She starts, a tinge of excitement bursting in Etto’s stomach with the connotations of her statement. Liran holds back a laugh at how credulous he really is, his eyes gleaming, mouth twitching into a grin. Liran worsens the knot of sheer anticipation in Etto as she reaches into her cleavage, his throat bobbing and his eyes diverting briefly in modesty. Liran can’t even begin to feel a tinge of guilt, even though he does seem to be learning some respect.

Liran brandishes the key in her slender fingers, the candlelight turning the silver and Etto’s eyes a matching shade of warm orange.

“How did you-“ Etto, seemingly enraptured with the possibility of reclaiming his vices, reaches out to the key. However, Liran moves faster, snatching her hand away and tutting at him.

“How I acquired it is not important, what is is if you agree to my terms” she too places her hands to mirror his, a simple psychological trick; copy the body language of one you want to convince. Not like it would be particularly difficult for Liran anyway.

“Aha-“ Etto wags his finger at her, a nervous laughter on his lips. Finally, he seems to have gained some kind of intelligence to realise what she’s getting at.

“It’s all yours if this…event ends now.” Liran locks her gaze on his, forcing him still. His shoulders drooping along with his expression

“It was _that_ bad?” he breathes, standing straight and looking at her sideways. He turns his gaze disappointedly to the rather avant-garde room; a self-proclaimed artist surveying his failed work in front of his only intended audience.

“I’ll even walk you there.” Liran interrupts his self-pitying, hoping it’s enough to feed his demanding ego.

“That’s one way to sweeten the pot” he runs his tongue over his teeth and pulls the tie around his neck loose.

“More like additional entertainment” Liran murmurs and luckily Etto does not hear it through the ruffling of her dress as she maneuvers herself out from under the table.

“I very much enjoyed your company” he adds before throwing his suit jacket onto the wooden chair with a thump, top buttons off, hair wild again. Once Etto cleans up he dirties himself directly after. Like a pig after getting bathed.

“Quickly. I cannot stand being in this dress any longer.” Liran holds out the key to Etto with one hand and bunches her up dress with the other.

Etto’s cold, rough hand meets hers halfway touching her fingertips and holding onto her

“I can help you get out of it you need” he replies causing Liran to snatch her hand back with a Latin curse to accompany it.

Liran reaches the door far before him and turns around, her tolerance for him had waned long ago. He was now pushing it.

Expecting to see him doing something nefarious she watches as he carefully plucks an angel trumpet from its stem, avoiding the sap and leaves; the most dangerous parts. It was almost skillful. _Almost_.

Etto tucks the flower behind his ear while blowing the lone candle out and begins to join Liran by the door, seemingly content. The closest planetary body is now the only light in the vast room. It gleams through the large window and onto them, turning their pale skin a soft blue. _He almost looks Tilaari like this_ , Liran’s thought makes her grimace internally. But that white bloom in his hair, his bare collarbone reflecting iridescent blue, the oddly soft look on his usually structured face. It’s strangely interesting. Yet easy to shake off as the man approaches,

“Do I look pretty?” Etto shoots her a wolfish, toothy grin.

“Like a discount Damon doll who was mistakenly washed with the whites.” Liran quips before marching out the door.

_In the infirmary_

Etto practically skips to the other side of the room where Ryona’s desk is sat, solemnly illuminated by the single lamp atop it. The ominously glowing flora behind him turning his hair a soft baby blue.

His joy is so childish.

Liran’s fingers drum against the door frame as she observes the man, smile plastered on his face, hands shaking from excitement or perhaps withdrawal.

The satisfying _click_ of the key turning in the lock forces Liran to look more intently at Etto’s hands, tugging the drawer open in an impatient fashion. _Typical_ , she thinks. But alas, the countdown begins.

  1. His smile is almost as bright as the bioluminescent plants her and Ryona had planted the other day. His hands are fast. They’re flying over the contents of the drawer in an erratic and eager fashion. _I wonder if this is how he handles his women,_ she reels at the thought.
  2. Bleached Reznor finally acquires half of what he came here for, a hipflask, still sloshing with liquid.
  3. Oh, _oh._ Liran can’t help rolling her eyes as she watches Etto’s features upturn with triumph. A small, square, foil-wrapped contraceptive in between his fingers. She wishes she didn’t have to witness the quick wink he throws her before resuming digging.
  4. There they are. The culprits to this whole affair and the reason Liran was on Etto-sitting duty tonight. Nicotine is very toxic in high doses, how could he not realise that? He couldn’t get more incompetent.
  5. _0_. But oh, he could.



The buzzing is perfectly on cue, making Etto pause, confusion etching his features

“Liran, do you hear th-“

Liran shoots Etto a poisonous smile,

“I’ve trained them well. I suppose I’ll leave you to it.” Liran waves nonchalantly over her shoulder, sparing a quick glance to watch as a wide-eyed Etto backs into the wall. He stares in horror as Liran’s hoard of wasps escape the confines of the drawer and ambush him.

Etto was not the only one who had their _tools_ taken by Ryona for ‘health reasons’.

Liran smiles as she hears the whoosh of the door shut behind her along with the symphony of Etto’s screams.

What a perfect ending to the worst date.


End file.
